


A Higher Calling

by promptly (ghsts)



Category: FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble, Gen, prompto on his own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12970137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghsts/pseuds/promptly
Summary: “What's that mark on your arm?” The stranger growls.Prompto's confused at first, but then terror takes over when he realises he's lost his wrist band – his barcode is on full view.“It's just a tattoo,” Prompto says, trying to pull his arm away.“You're one of those Mts,” the Hunter growls. “Break your programming?”“I'm not...” Prompto starts to reach for his side arm. This isn't the first time this has happened. “It's just a stupid tattoo...”





	A Higher Calling

**Author's Note:**

> \+ this hasn't been beta'd, so my apologies for any mistakes.

Prompto stands with his hands on his hips, reading the almost illegable note nailed to the barn door. The last time he'd been in this part of Duscae there'd been a small group of hunters that inhabited the place, but it now looks as though they've headed to Lestallum. Everyone goes there these days, searching for that little piece of light still left in the world.

He sighs, and turns, before jumping back in fright.

Right there in front of him is a rather scared, light skinned hunter.

“Shit!” Prompto says, hand against his chest. “You scared the shit outta me, bro!”

The man just grunts, and pushes past Prompto to look at the note on the door. “Lestallum. Typical.” He turns to Prompto. “Call themselves hunters, can't even handle a little darkness.”

Prompto eyes the man cautiously. “Too much darkness can get a bit...too much.”

Prompto's never seen this guy before, but he's giving off a bad vibe. He's dressed in the typical hunter fashion, and like most hunters these days, he looks like he's been through the wars. He probably _has_ been, really.

The hunter looks Prompto up and down. “Haven't seen you around these parts before...”

Prompto shrugs, shifting from one foot to the other in that fidgety way he always does. “I pass through now and then...was just looking for a place to stay for the night...” He looks at the sky. “But camping it is!” He gives the stranger what he hopes is a friendly smile. “Be seeing ya-”

As Prompto makes to leave, the hunter grabs his wrist, tugging him forward.

“Eh!”

“What's that mark on your arm?” The stranger growls.

Prompto's confused at first, but then terror takes over when he realises he's lost his wrist band – his barcode is on full view.

“It's just a tattoo,” Prompto says, trying to pull his arm away. 

“You're one of those MTs,” the Hunter growls. “Break your programming?”

“I'm not...” Prompto starts to reach for his side arm. This isn't the first time this has happened. “It's just a stupid tattoo...”

The hunter starts to reach for his own weapon, but Prompto never gets a chance to see what it is.

Suddenly, his arm is free and he falls to ground. There's a grunting holler, and Prompto looks up to see the hunter against the barn door, a dagger pinning the hunter's arm to the barn door. It's sliced right through the wrist, making it impossible for the man to free himself.

Prompto's eyes grow wide, and he turns, his heart pounding. “Iggy?”

Ignis Scientia stands there, tugging on his gloves in the most professional manner possible. It's been about a year since Prompt had seen any of his old friends; everyone seemed to avoid each other these days. Whether it be out of pain or anger, Prompto wasn't sure, but he was damn happy to see the bespectacled man before him.

“it's been a long time, old friend.” Ignis says, taking a few tentative steps before reaching out a hand to help Prompto to his feet.

“Dude!” Prompto cries, and literally throws himself around his old ally. 

“I miss you, too,” Ignis almost chuckles.

“How did you do that?!” Prompto screeches, turning back to look at the hunter's impaled arm. “Did you get-”

“No,” Ignis says, and he walks forward, grabbing the handle of his dagger. “Still blind.” He pulls the dagger free and the hunter falls to the ground with a cry. “Just good.”

Prompto lets out a laugh. “Aw, Iggy...”

“This isn't a social visit, sadly,” Ignis says, and Prompto frowns. 

“It's not?”

“I'm afraid not. Something of a more... _higher_ calling, to be exact.”

Prompto's heart skips a beat. “You don't mean...”

Ignis nods. “Yes.”

“He's...back?”

Again, Ignis nods.

Prompto just stares at his old friend for what feels like the longest time, before saying, “Well, I guess it's time to go get Gladio, huh?”

“Already waiting for us at Hammerhead.”


End file.
